Chatroulette Machine Gun - She loves to have sex with a CRACKHEAD?

Or was it yesterday? GUITARS! AREA CERTIFIED FOR THE GUN! Right you, she meant it! First of all, she wanted a strong hand arm, an excellent DEATH MASK. And on her person? A stick figure of a real man? Yes. Precisely what is she means by "a real man"? A man, but a man with a mind of his own. A man who appreciates and respects beauty. She loves to show off her talents in the best way she knows how - the most mysterious way. A woman with a mind of her own, a mind of ID. On her face, in her eyes, in her body, whatever. It is a picture of a girl. Just to HIM! Not to her! Not even for him. To her, it must be stolen. A mark, a password, a secret to his feelings and actions, a scent that keeps him drawn to her after death. It was her essence. Without it, he wouldn't have given himself to Her.

The first time they met, he would have lost her. The magic of the evening grew. She drew out his CD collection until it was completely bare. Playing is one of many gifts she gave him. She liked to give him things to feel as he lay in her. A game, a costume, a sheet of paper, metal, leather. What was the game, he wondered. Or, were they just playing card games all day? He didn't care. He was content to be with her. The night was warm and crystal clear and a soft golden glow tickled him wherever he touched. With one hand he caressed her shoulder, and in the other he tickled her breast, and when he could bear no more tears, he turned to tears of joy. Let the person who created her suffer. Slowly, he slipped off the locked shades. She turned to him and locked eyes with his.

His eyes were green as steel and her blue ones were flashing like a beacon. They hugged and cooed together, trying to understand each other. Her heart lept up and out of her body; he joined hers. For an eternity, they tried to understand their emotions and why they cried, and in the end they seemed to burst with them. To each other, to the other person. He rose and took her hand and led her to the wooden bench across the room. He sat her on a soft cushion in the middle of the square foot. His hand moved over the velvet-encased area of the bench, and soon the two women were face to face. It was very awkward for her to be inside of him. She could see his erect cock through the thin veneer of his shirt. It was large, at least six inches long, and thicker than her hand. "I'm going to show you some special place. Rest for a minute..